


Mainstream

by celeryy



Category: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, Jossverse
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 22:59:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeryy/pseuds/celeryy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy had a nightmare. Unspoken guilt can lead to some unpleasant side-effects...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mainstream

**Author's Note:**

> Written almost a year ago now, during my hyper-obsessive Doctor Horrible/NPH phase. (Still waiting for that sequel, Whedons!) Why do I seem to have a knack for angst?
> 
> Disclaimer: Not my characters. Joss is boss.

/

The whole room was spinning.

Doctor Horrible glanced up at the mirror, and Billy's face peered out at him, looking ashen and terrified. Beads of cold sweat gleamed on his forehead.

Suddenly a shuddering wave of nausea overtook him, and he doubled over, retching into the bathroom sink. Billy choked and gasped as bile burned his throat until gradually the sickening spasms receded and he was left feeling drained and empty in more ways than one. He stayed there for a few moments, head bowed, eyes squeezed shut, trying to regain control. But even with his clammy hands firmly gripping either side of the chipped polyurethane basin, his arms wouldn't stop shaking.

Vaguely he heard a voice coming from the hallway, speaking to him. He wheeled around with a jerk. It was -

"Penny!"

Moist. It was just Moist.

"...want me to pick anything up for...?" he was saying, but he quickly faltered into silence as he took in the scene:

Billy had half collapsed against the sink, hands clutching the countertop behind him with white knuckles. His whole body seemed to be tensed and trembling, as though he'd just been shot through with an electric current. His eyes were wide open and rimmed with red, and they seemed to be staring at something just slightly beyond the bathroom door with an expression of either intense fear or longing. The overall effect was unnerving. He looked quite mad, Moist observed. And not the power-crazed evil scientist kind, which would have been perfectly acceptable.

"Uh, you okay?" Moist asked uncertainly. He didn't seem to have noticed the mistaken shout.

Billy started.

His eyes remained fixed on the point in the empty hallway.

"I -"

But the sound came out about an octave higher than he had intended. He cleared his throat hoarsely and tried again. "I...I'm..."

Presently, Moist's initial shock was beginning to wear off, and his expression took on a degree of hesitant concern.

"Geez, Doc! You look houuhh-" there was an awkward pause as Moist reconsidered mid-adjective. "...well...bad," he finished lamely. He waited for a response, wishing that Billy would snap out of that intense, glassy stare. It was making him uncomfortable.

Finally, Billy drew a shaky breath, and his eyes slowly refocused onto the person standing anxiously in front of him.

"Ah, you know...Long night...equations..." he mumbled unconvincingly. He attempted a lighthearted laugh, but it came off as more of a wince. His left eye twitched.

"Right..." said Moist. But he was relieved that Billy at least seemed to have found his head. Now that the wild gleam had left his eyes, the poor guy looked exhausted.

"Are you sure you're okay, man?" he asked again. Billy gave him a look, but didn't respond.

"You _have_ been working a lot," Moist reasoned to him. "It might be starting to catch up to you...Maybe you should go see a doctor..." he ventured. He amended the thought sheepishly, "You know, like, one that has a Ph.D. in something a bit more mainstream."


End file.
